“You wound me.”
“I did not intend to.” Annie took a step back to place more distance between them. She would have no hope of making a match with one of the suitable gentlemen present if she kept company with the duke. “However, I have a reputation to guard, Your Grace.”
“Ah, I see.” His gaze lit with amusement. “You think a promenade in the garden will render you ruined?” He stepped toward her, closing the distance she’d only just gained. “Have you considered how the attentions of a duke may elevate your desirability?”
Heat burned her cheeks and neck. Annie shook her head. “I do not wish for your help.”
“Then accept my friendship.” The Duke proffered his arm. “Allow me a short, well-chaperoned stroll. It is the middle of the day and others have already removed to the out of doors. No harm will come of it.”
Annie could not say why she did it, but she nodded her assent, a small thrill running through her. “Allow me a few moments to collect my bonnet and a chaperone.”
His Grace smiled and shook his head. “You are a lady and I am a duke. We have others to fetch our bonnets and chaperones.” He signaled for a footman.
Annie could hardly stifle the laugh that bubbled up inside her. “I can scarcely imagine you in a bonnet,” she teased.
“I would gladly wear one if it meant I got to see your smile and hear your laughter.”
Her cheeks warmed at the compliment, her pulse ticking upward.
The duke turned his attention to the footman he’d summoned. “Lady Ann requires her bonnet and a chaperone. See to it with all do haste.”
The footman bowed. “Yes, Your Grace.” Then backed away before pivoting to go see to the duke’s wishes. Moments later, Annie had her bonnet and…
“Grandmother,” Annie exclaimed. “Surely a maid or footman could chaperone us? I should hate to take you from our guests.”
“Rubbish.” Gran waved her hand. “It is a splendid day for a walk. I am rather looking forward to escaping the confines of the house.” She turned her mischievous grin on the duke. “Do not fret, Your Grace. I will remain an appropriate distance behind.”
“I would never question your aptitude, Countess.” He replied to Gran, then offered his arm to Annie.
Annie’s heart beat a rampant tattoo as she accepted the duke’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the parlor. The sun wrapped her in warmth as the duke escorted her deeper into the garden. She glanced over her shoulder at Gran, then inhaled the fresh summer air, allowing herself to relax a measure. The scent of summer flowers, rose and hydrangea mingled with lavender and sweet pea, hung in the air around them and filled her nose. She did so love the gardens this time of year.
“How is it you know my grandmother and cousin so well, and yet we have never met?” Annie asked, her gaze trained on a flowering hedge in the distance. She cringed at the question and chastised herself for asking. She did not wish to know anything more about the duke than she already did.
“I was just pondering that very thing,” the duke said. “Though I am more concerned with why you find me so objectionable a companion.”
She turned a snarky grin on him. “I believe we have already covered that.”
“Ah yes, I am a big scary rogue.” His eyes sparkled with good humor. “And how can you be so sure of that?”
She shook her head. “I do not find you scary. I find you distasteful.”
“How would you know when you have never tasted me?” His gaze turned dark, sensual.
Annie melted a little, her knees growing weak and cheeks warming. Her reaction made her angry, and she released his arm, stiffening her shoulders. “You are a well-known rogue. The way you talk is evidence of your debauchery, and I wish to have no part of it.”
“Because your reputation could not withstand an association with me?” He chuckled. “But what if it were all a lie? What if everything they say about me is by design? My own carefully created subterfuge.”
Her heart leapt at the idea as her mind cautioned her not to buy into his tale. “Why ever would you reduce your own reputation to that of a scoundrel?” She asked.
“To protect myself from scheming women, of course.”
“You think too highly of yourself, Your Grace.”
“You wound me, Lady Ann. Some women will go to unimaginable lengths to trap a man.” He reached for her hand and placed it back on his arm. “Shall I tell you a story?”
She feigned indifference as she averted her gaze. “If you must.” She glanced back in time to see the slight curve of his lips. The rascal found her amusing. That had not been her intention. Still, she delighted in the fact that he seemed to enjoy her company.
“Several years ago, shortly after I assumed my title—”
